


Anniversary

by legilimens



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Cherik - Freeform, Drama, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:07:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legilimens/pseuds/legilimens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter how much time passes by or how many things he has to worry about at the moment, Erik will never be able to go through this day normally – his body shuts down and nothing else crosses his mind. It's not like he intends to, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lexiestark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexiestark/gifts), [deathdealerss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathdealerss/gifts), [carminis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carminis/gifts), [nullers](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nullers).



> This is based on a headcanon of mine that was sitting in the back of my mind for a while now. It's my first Cherik fic ever and English is not my primary language, so excuse any mistakes! x

It’s that time of the year again.

Erik thought that after about five years it would become a day just like any other, one he would hardly think of as anything other than what it was: a day. Nevertheless, eight years have gone by since the accident and guilt still claws on his insides when he sets his eyes on the calendar across his bedroom, making him wish he hadn’t woken up. But the truth is he actually didn’t sleep at all; he never does at this day’s eve. It’s like his entire being knows what’s to come as soon as he closes his eyes: nightmares filled with flashes of pained blue eyes, cries of despair and Charles’ words – two words that still haunt him and probably will to his death – echoing in his ears like they were marked with fire on his skull.

_You did._

As his eyes stare blankly at the ceiling, Erik lets a shaky breath escape through his lips. Being awake helps avoiding the memory, but he can’t seem to block out Charles’ accusation, which had confirmed the thoughts that were spinning in his mind as he kneeled beside the telepath and removed the bullet from his spine: it was his fault. His blinding fury had caused him to lose control and Moira to shoot him, trying to prevent the mass murder he had been about to commit. If he had listened to Charles’ pleas, if only he had stopped—

_We’re the better men._

"I am no good man," he whispers to no one.

He partly blames it on Charles for being so stubborn about mankind. It was – and still is – an illusion to believe that one day mutants would live peacefully among the humans; there would always be the eminence of war. Men would shake their hands with a gun hidden behind their backs, Erik is sure. Xavier’s good heart will never be enough for them, as long as it is placed in his chest, pulsing life through his veins, rather than in a silver plate or hanging on a wall in the President’s office.

Thinking about the human race makes him unconsciously ball his fists and he drops his eyes to them, but his stretched legs catch his gaze. Erik moves them slowly, one at a time, twirling his feet and bending his knees, until he stops and let them fall back into the mattress as his eyelids droop until they close.

A burning sensation in his eyes makes him realize he’s about to cry. Just this one time, he doesn’t stop himself and instead lets the tears roll down his face. A sob ripples through his throat and he pulls onto his hair with both hands before draping an arm over his face to muffle the sound of his weeping. His chest feels crushed by an overwhelming force, pressing it down, making it hard to catch his breath as his mind clouds over with guilt and sadness and just _pain_ that have been pooling within him for eight years.

It should have been him. Charles didn’t deserve the fate he got. He misses the telepath’s company way more than he allows himself to admit and often wonders whether he’s missed just as much. Sometimes he is struck by an enormous urge to visit Xavier, but it fades as soon as those two words come to the front of his mind.

Erik loses track of how long he cries. He feels weak for doing so and promises himself silently he'll never do it again, ever. His eyes are swollen and his throat hurts from trying to swallow the lumps that kept forming in there. With trembling hands, he wipes a few tears that still haven’t dried out and smooths his hair, which is messy and pointing in all directions from the pulling. A glance at the clock tells him it’s nearly half past 6 p.m. In that moment, a knock on the door is heard and Erik sighs before telling whoever it is to come in.

A blond head peeks into the room. “Sir, I don’t wanna bother, just meant to tell you that dinner is ready.”

The kid that enters his bedroom is a new recruit he found in Chicago two years ago and one Erik is really proud of; he proved to be a true talent, although still lacks some confidence. What makes him specially like the boy is his kind personality, which reminds him of Charles in many ways. Paradoxically, the young mutant is another painful reminder of his loss all those years ago.

"Thanks, but I won’t join you lot tonight… and you are not bothering at all." He gestures to the room and himself, "as you can see, I wasn’t up to anything, really."

The younger man nods and turns to leave, his hand already around the doorknob, when he swirls on his ankles to face Erik again. “Sir, can I ask you a question, if you don’t mind?”

"Sure."

"Why do you always spend this particular day in bed? I couldn’t help noticing, y’know."

Erik looks at his legs again for a long time, thinking he’s not worthy of using them. He presses his lips in a thin line and turns to the boy, shaking his head. “It’s not fair.”

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this one shot to all the nullers who encouraged me to write anything at all. I hope I lived up to any expectations of yours... Love you, girls!


End file.
